


Plug it In

by zebraljb



Series: Cheesevember 2018 [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 17:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: Merlin's the IT guy, Harry's the creative director. Merlin thinks Harry sees him as less than worthy because he works in IT.  Harry thinks Merlin believes him to be stupid because he's technologically ignorant.  Merlin thinks Harry looks like sin in his suits. Harry thinks Merlin's beautiful.





	Plug it In

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt - office relationship

PLUG IT IN

“We’ve been asked to present at the symposium next month.” Arthur beams at everyone. Some of them return his smile. Others roll their eyes. The newer employees start taking notes. “Kingsman Publishing has been in business for almost a hundred years, but this is the first time we’ve been given this honor. I’m going to send two of you, because really, that’s all we need.”

“Because really, I’m too cheap to send more than two people to New York, get them a hotel, and feed them for four days,” Merlin murmurs to his assistant, Lena. 

“Merlin.” Merlin sits up straight and nods. “You’ll be going. I want you to create a spectacular presentation, something that will really wow the crowd. Something that will support our speaker.”

“Yes, sir. It’s an honor.”

“And Harry.”

 

Harry Hart looks up from where he’s doodling on a notepad. “Sir?”

“You will be accompanying Merlin and speaking on behalf of the company.”

Harry’s mouth falls open, as does Merlin’s. “But, sir, don’t you think someone in PR should go? I’m just in Creative Design. I…”

“You’re the HEAD of Creative Design, Harry, and you really have your finger on the pulse of the company. You’ve been here the longest, and you can really express what we are and what we hope to be in the future,” Arthur says.

“Plus you’re pretty as fuck and make us look good,” Lena mumbles and Merlin gives her a look. She blushes and sinks back in her seat. 

He won’t admit that he agrees with her.

 

Harry Hart slams the door of his office and falls into his chair. He stares at the door and works up a good strop. He doesn’t mind the trip to New York. He has NO problem traveling on the company dime. What he has a problem with is his traveling companion. Merlin Macnair has ignored him almost from the second he stepped foot in the door. And he doesn’t even have a problem with THAT…although really, who ignores HIM? It’s the fact that Merlin acts like he’s better than Harry just because he knows computer…things. He knows how to do things like write code (whatever that is) and create programs and…turn the damn thing on. Harry barely manages THAT every morning. He’s happy with his typewriter, or better yet, a pad and paper. He growls and kicks his trashcan as he remembers the day his staff burned his manual typewriter when it finally lost the ability to press through the ribbon.

He glares at his computer as he swivels back and forth in his chair. So Merlin can do computer things. So he’s apparently brilliant with all sorts of degrees and things. All he does is push buttons, plug things in, and turn them on and off. Harry can create. Harry DOES create, and it’s because of his creations that Kingsman’s been on top all these years. Fuck Merlin Macnair. Let him make his little Power Point presentation, click the buttons so pictures come up on the screen behind Harry on stage. It’s Harry’s words, Harry’s vision that will go out to the people at the symposium. He smiles in satisfaction. 

His irritation has NOTHING to do with the fact that Merlin’s just Harry’s type.

His phone buzzes. “Yes, Amy?”

“Merlin’s here to speak with you, sir.”

Lovely. “Send him in.”

There’s a knock in the door before Merlin pokes his head in. “Hart.”

“Merlin. Have a seat.” Harry smiles politely. “What can I do for you?”

“Look, I know neither one of is particularly pleased by this.” Merlin falls into the chair without an inch of grace, yet still manages to unfold his long frame without falling over. “I figure if we just push everything aside and work together, we can make Arthur happy and get a bit of a vacation out of it.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Harry says, although he inwardly grimaces. Apparently Merlin’s just as unhappy about this as he is, although Harry has no clue why.

“So I figured perhaps we could start on Monday…stay until maybe seven.”

“Stay after work?” Harry stares at him. “I do have a life, you know.”

“Good for you,” Merlin says, rolling his eyes. “Your life can start after seven next week.”

“Very well, although I suppose you don’t…”

“Just because I stay at work until seven or eight doesn’t mean I don’t have a life.” Merlin stands up. “I don’t have the same bedtime as an elderly retiree. I’m able to stay up late and still manage to do my job the next morning.” He smiles politely and leaves the office.

“Bastard,” Harry snaps to no one, idling wondering what Merlin might be doing that keeps him up late.

He doesn’t want to know. He really doesn’t. He DOESN’T, he tells his cock.

 

Merlin ignores the fact that he decides to wear his best grey slacks and his favorite black and gold jumper to work on Monday, the jumper that everyone says brings out his eyes. He also ignores the fact that he delegates most of the literal dirty work to his staff so he stays clean. He doesn’t climb under desks or go behind bookcases. He simply does the coding and debugging and help desk calls and stays clean. For no good reason. Just because.

He passes Harry’s desk on the way to the coffee machine early in the day but makes no attempt to stop and say hello. He’s made a game out of avoiding Harry as much as possible in his eight years with the company, and he’s gotten quite good at it. From the moment he met Harry Hart, he wanted him. To make matters worse, it’s obvious that Harry thinks he’s a nothing, a tech rat hired to keep his computer on and his printer full of paper and toner. He doesn’t see the hours of work that go into their website or into the programs that run their days. He doesn’t see the flow and music of the coding, the way the letters and symbols become something almost living and breathing. Harry’s too busy designing book jackets and writing copy for advertisement. Merlin’s seen Harry sketch an entire landscape in fifteen minutes, and come up with five sentences that draw someone into a book without even trying.

He has no problem turning up his nose at Harry, since Harry turns his up at Merlin. He has no time for artsy posh types like this. Artsy posh types with hair that curls at the nape of his neck, or brown eyes that see everything but give away nothing. Artsy posh types who spend thousands of pounds on bespoke suits and fill them out in a way that is absolutely illegal.

 

Halfway through the day Harry realizes that they won’t have time for dinner. He usually stays in the office until 5:30 or 6:00 anyhow, but he then stops somewhere to grab a bite or take something home. He knows he’ll be an angry bear trying to work on an empty stomach, no matter what Merlin’s capable of. He makes a call and has Chinese delivery scheduled for 6:50. He gets a few things, unsure of Merlin’s tastes. He’s most definitely not going to ask him.

When he signs the receipt and takes the bags of food back upstairs the building is practically deserted. Their floor is empty and dark, save for the lights in the conference room. Harry stops at his desk and grabs his notebook and pen along with a few other materials and it’s 7:10 before he enters the conference room.

“You know, I’m fairly certain you have a clock in your office,” Merlin snaps, not looking up from his laptop.

“I was paying for our dinner.”

Merlin finally looks up, his mouth falling open in shock. “Oh, well…I’m sorry. Let me help you.” He jumps up and relieves Harry of some of his burden. “That was…that was quite thoughtful of you.”

Harry looks into Merlin’s eyes and suddenly finds it difficult to breathe. “I…I know I’m quite dreadful when I’m hungry, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

“I’m the same way.” Merlin helps him unpack the sacks of food. “Chicken Lo Mein. Oh, Mr. Hart, I might marry you,” he moans before blushing.

“I do appreciate the proposal, although I figure we should at least go on a few dates first before making any definite future plans.” Harry stops short, wondering where that came from. 

They prepare their food and sit down. “So, I was thinking you should probably take the lead on this,” Merlin begins.

“Of course I should,” Harry says automatically.

Merlin glares at him, his teasing mood long gone. “I mean because I cannot design any sort of visual presentation without your basic ideas. Our work needs to go hand in hand. Your creative vision with my actual vision.”

“Right. Of course. Like that’s going to happen. But here are my notes.” Harry organizes his scraps of paper and hands them to Merlin.

“Jesus Christ. You have a desktop in your office as well a laptop. I know this because I loaded the software. What is all this?” He waves the pages in the air.

“I don’t like those things.”

“What things?”

“Computers. I hate computers, all right? I hate them. I know that probably took a year off your life, hearing that, but there it is.” Harry focuses on his chicken and broccoli. “Let me know if you can’t read my handwriting.”

“Your handwriting is perfect,” Merlin says and Harry blushes a bit. He reads over Harry’s notes. “May I make some notes for myself in the margins?”

“Of course.” 

Merlin feeds himself with his left hand while writing with his right. “This is only a basic thought. Shall I explain it to you?”

“I’m not an idiot, you know.”

“I never said you were,” Merlin says quietly. “But I used a lot of my own personal shorthand, and I’m not sure it will make sense to you.”

“Well, then, yes, please, explain.”

Merlin starts talking and Harry forgets to eat. Merlin’s ideas for slides and pictures and animation blows his mind, and he finds himself eagerly responding and giving new ideas. Merlin smiles with delight when Harry takes one of his ideas and expands upon it, and they’re soon leaning in toward each other, pouring over the notes and scribbling new ideas all over the pages.

Merlin pushes his plate away and stares at Harry. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Harry gathers their rubbish together and starts to clean up. He cannot believe it’s almost 9:30.

“What did you mean earlier? I said I we needed our visions to work together and you said, “like that’s going to happen.” What did that mean?”

Harry blushes. “Did I say that?”

“Yes, you did.” Merlin stands as well, leaning on the table.

“Well, it’s obvious…I know what you think of me.”

“What I think of you?”

“Yes.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You think I’m a dinosaur.”

“I’m fairly certain we’re the same age, Hart.”

“Not regarding technology, we aren’t. I like paper. I like the scratch of the pencil on my pad. I like the tip-tap of a manual typewriter, the satisfying whir as you return the carriage. And you don’t. You think it’s ridiculous, and you think I’m ridiculous just because I don’t know how to connect my printer.”

“I don’t think you’re ridiculous.” Merlin looks shocked. “I write with pencils at home all the time. The kind you sharpen…not the mechanical ones.”

“You…you made fun of me the first day you had to come into my office. You said something smart about the fact that I thought my computer was broken when it was simply unplugged.” Harry turns red, remembering his mortification when the gorgeous new tech employee laughed at him.

“My God, Harry…I’m so sorry.” Merlin looks ashamed. “I wasn’t making fun of you. I was nervous and was trying to joke around, break the ice. I never meant to insult your intelligence. Please…please accept my apology.”

“Accepted,” Harry says, still feeling like an idiot.

“I was intimidated by you,” Merlin confides. Harry stares at him. “I can’t draw a straight line with a ruler, and there you were with all of these amazing posters all over the office. You acted like I was part of the furniture when I came into your office. I heard about you before I met you, and then once I got a look at you.”

“Once you got a look at me?” Harry whispers.

Merlin takes a deep breath. “Let’s just say your posters aren’t the only beautiful thing about you.”

Before he can stop himself Harry leans in, Merlin meeting him halfway. Their lips meet and Merlin’s hand slides up into his hair, working through the product to create a mess of curls. Harry’s hands reach for Merlin’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Merlin moans and depends the kiss, hopping up to sit on the table. Harry gives a bit of a growl, grabbing Merlin’s thighs. Merlin takes the hint and wraps his long legs around Harry’s waist.

Merlin slides his tongue down Harry’s throat and bites just above his tie. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry if I treated you like part of the furniture,” Harry gasps.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel stupid.” Merlin groans as Harry’s hands grab his arse and pull him even closer.

They kiss again, faces growing red, both of them panting for breath when they finally break apart. “As sturdy as I think this table is, we probably shouldn’t put it to the test.”

“No,” Merlin agrees, tongue flicking over Harry’s earlobe. “How close do you live?”

Harry looks at him. “I don’t do one night stands and three stops plus a one-block walk.”

“I don’t either and I’m three blocks away.” Merlin shudders as Harry’s hands slide up under the back of his jumper. 

“Just let me put these things away…you’ll bring the leftover food?” Harry asks, straightening his tie and running his hand through his hair.

“Yes. I have a feeling we’ll be working up an appetite later.” Merlin gives him an evil grin and pulls him in for one more kiss. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Harry heads for his office, unable to keep the smile off his face. Suddenly this trip to New York is sounding like the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

THE END


End file.
